A Good Man Goes to War
by danniellecj
Summary: AU: The TARDIS takes the Doctor and his companion, Ronan Odair, 20 years back into the Great War of Panem, where their presence could either change the future of Panem or worsen it.
1. Thirteen

**AN:** I've always wondered what it would have been liked if the Doctor had been around the Panem War, as that was my original idea. But my love for Finnick Odair got in the way, and I thought why not? Even though I would probably regret this later, I decided to push through because I am a very nice person and Finnick deserves a chance. I haven't done anything like this before and this is my first AU, so please be kind. R&R's.

**Chapter 1: Thirteen**

It doesn't start like this.

Never.

Well, not until today.

My whole life has been attributed to sailing the coasts of Panem, and accompanying my mother, helping her out in the daily runabouts of District 4, on days when she'll let me carry along by myself, I'd take a look around places in the beach, and think of the things I'd discover when I get my own boat. I think of places I'd discover, of people from another world, of things that could change the world. I always wonder, and wonder of the things I could make up in my mind.

Little things like how mother would describe the color of my father's eyes, or the way her own would dim when she'd mention his parting words.

My father – the great Finnick Odair as they'd say he was, died before I was born. He took great part in the great war of Panem, nearly 20 years ago. My mother never talks about the war, even when I was a young boy, but she could describe my father in almost vivid details, the first time they met, the way he'd laugh, and the way I was in all similar to him.

But she never told me the things I had always wondered about, she never talked about his death, the war or the Hunger Games – a competition where 24 children would partake in that involved murder and violence, she filled my head with wonders and beautiful things.

And I love my mother for that, for protecting me, and while I have never met my father, I too love him, for giving up his life for the future I am living in now.

But I never stopped wondering.

So when I met a man called "the Doctor" whose "ship" got stuck in the local Peacekeeper's ship, I didn't exactly know that his so-called ship would be a small blue box that had the capacity to hold possible half of the population of District 4, or possibly more, nor did I know that it could travel farther than the boats I'd travel in.

He called it his "TARDIS" specifically more of a nickname for her actual description which was somewhere along "Time and Relative Dimension in Space", which I have absolutely no idea about. Beetee and the Doctor would probably get along better. Beetee was a renowned scientist form District 3, he was in charge of Panem's technical communications and could explain half of the things he does with great enthusiasm with the advantage of boring you to death too.

"All of time and space, Odair" he told me, pulling down a lever from the console. I look up at the Doctor, not knowing how to make sense of this. He spins around, like a 12 year old and faces me, a smile in his face telling me if I was still up for the dare.

"Where would you like to start?" he asks.

I absolutely don't know. How could you chose a trip with a man who's probably seen everything that has and yet to happen? All the possibilities and opportunities I could think of when I was a child, and the adventures I would make up.

But I suppose, the things we've always wondered about is what makes me tell him exactly where I wanted to go to.

So I tell him to take me back in time where things were different. I don't specify the amount of difference because maybe it's better not knowing how different. I deeply hope he takes me back to District Four, or maybe some time when my father was still living.

I look at the Doctor and he seems to enjoy this, he turns back at me, pulls some contraptions and presses some buttons in the console before I feel the movement of the TARDIS taking us to a different place.

I ignore the dreading feeling of doubt because as far as I know, this man knows what he's doing.

I hope.

The TARDIS lands us in what seems like a closed space. I realize this as soon as the Doctor opens the door and hits a wall.

"Where are we?" I ask.

It looked more like a small closet, or possibly a janitor's closet. The mop and bucket decorated the corners, and it's a wonder the both of us can fit in here.

"No idea." He says, brushing off the dust in his tweed jacket.

How reassuring. A strange man daring me to join him for an "Adventure of a lifetime" and here we are stuck in a janitor's closet, with no idea where we've landed. I suppose it will make sense later.

I hope.

He pulls out his one-of-a-kind screwdriver, or as he puts it his "sonic screwdriver" and points it at the knob. I hear click before he opens the door to an empty hallway of gray.

"One of these days Odair, you'll learn never to underestimate me." He says this as he polishes his jacket with a satisfied smile.

"Well, coming from a man who doesn't know exactly where's headed off to, I'm guessing it'll take a few more tries before I do" I say, trying not to regret this decision I've made.

"Well, what's the point of an adventure if you'd know where you're headed off to?" he asks a bit annoyed at me. He walks ahead of me, as if he knows exactly where he is going to.

"Well for one, you never get lost" I tell him this, following him, and trying to make sure he doesn't do anything ahead of me.

"We're not lost, we're exploring." He says.

"Exploring what exactly?" I ask.

"Something new." He says, and for once, I agree with him.

The gray hallways are empty, well so far, and not until we reach an entrance, where it's guarded by huge soldiers dressed in gray clothes. Everything here seems to be in gray, it almost takes the life out of it.

"Finally. Humans!" he says this in an excited tone.

But I sense, these soldiers won't be happy to see us, so I grab the Doctor by his hand and pull him back with me to a corner where we won't be seen.

"Any ideas how we'll get pass through them?" I ask, pulling the Doctor back with me.

"Well if you'd let me go, we would"

"How sure are you they'd let us pass?"

The Doctor smiles at me as if I'd ask a very simple question that can be solved easily. He pulls out a small booklet and a blank paper.

"Psych paper. Makes them think of whatever you want them to think you are." He explains.

I look at the paper again and instead of being blank like it was before, there was "the Doctor" in heavy print with a professional signature indicating he's worked at some fancy institution.

"And are you sure they won't arrest us? You don't even know where we've landed" I tell him this, doubting his ability, if he actually has one.

"Nonsense Odair, they're not going to arrest us. You'll learn to trust me, soon enough" he reassures me and I for once, believe him.

He is the Doctor after all. Maybe he knows what he's doing.

I let him go ahead, and follow right after. They see us and adjust their weapons at any time that one of us could attack them.

"Hello! I'm the Doctor" he introduces and shows them the paper, "just popping along for a visit"

I catch up to him just as the Doctor eagerly introduces me to these large soldiers, and trying not to think of horrible ways of them breaking our bones.

"And this is my trusty companion, Ronan"

I awkwardly smile at the soldiers and for some reason they recognize me. The soldier at my side gruffly asks me "They didn't tell us someone would be visiting."

"Well, it's a surprise, I guess" I tell them.

They look at us suspiciously before the other one scans us with his watch and talks to someone through it.

I can only make out the words "rebels" before they let us through, where we are accompanied by another soldier in gray. He takes us to a room filled with other people, only these people are filled with fear and anxiety, I see their tattered clothes and immediately assume that maybe they've been picked up at the streets or somewhere in the woods.

The soldier asks where we've come from and I look at the Doctor for answers since, he supposedly knows what he's doing.

"Somewhere far." He says.

"Can you please specify what District?" he impatiently, asks again.

This time the Doctor looks at me, confusion piling up in his face. I'm confused too, because Panem is the only place I know of that has Districts, so I immediately assume that maybe it's the same for this place.

The soldier waits for our answers, so I tell them "District Four"

I hear the soldier chuckle at my answer and tell us, "I thought so; you look like someone from District Four"

Now I'm confused. What did he mean; I look like someone from 4? There is only one man that everyone keeps saying I look like and he's been dead for twenty years.

He leads us to a contraption in the wall, where it tattoos the smooth inside of our forearms with a schedule in a funny shade of purple ink. I look at it strangely and wonder how long it will take before it disappears. I look at the Doctor, obviously not liking it as he tries to rub it off his skin.

"It won't work. It'll only come off until bath time, which is in your schedule" the soldier answers

"Well where's the fun in here if you're asked to follow a set of activities in time?" the Doctor asks.

The soldier narrows his brown eyes at him, "We're in a war Doctor, how do you expect us to have fun?"

The word "war", turns the Doctor into a different person, I can see the confusion evident and the frown takes it place. I'm trying to figure out exactly who this man is, who I agreed to accompany to take me to a place that I'm not even sure of.

He assigns us a compartment to stay in and says "Welcome to District Thirteen, makes yourselves at home" and leaves us be.

There is an awkward amount of silence between us, as the Doctor looks around, as if finally realizing exactly where we are. I try to assume we're in a different part of time, and I think we're still on Earth and quite possibly we're still in Panem, only I'm not sure what part of Panem's history have we landed into.

"Doctor," I start, "where exactly are we?" I repeat the question, this time I'm sure I can see that he's slowly figuring out where we're at but from the way he's looking at, I'm not sure he likes it.

"Let's go to the compartment and investigate further" he says, and I have no say in it, so I merely follow.

The amount of people has suddenly increased as we stagger on the gray hallways of District Thirteen. As opposed to what I've seen earlier, the people here are calm and seem to be going on in their daily activities. I haven't been to Thirteen before in my time, but as far as I know no one really likes it there as it's too well-closed, and dull.

Some people sort of recognize me, and look at me as if they know who I am. They don't say a word, but merely give a curious stare which gives me an uncomfortable feeling.

"Come along, Ronan" he says and I follow him.

I notice the sudden change of name's started to call me, but say nothing about it as I start to trust this man.

As we near the compartment, a small olive skinned girl eagerly runs up to us and she looks at me and says "Hello Finnick!" and I have no idea why she knows my name, so I give her a smile and say an eager "Hi!" back, I can sense the Doctor going still, before he reaches in the pocket of his jacket and pulls out the keys.

She smiles at me, and runs back to the corner where her friends might be waiting.

The Doctor opens the compartment, and I follow him, closing the door in the process. I'm guessing from the sudden turn of events that he's finally got a clue where we're at.

I sit at the bed and watch him, waiting for an answer. He paces around as if trying to ward off the feeling closing in on him.

"So," I start. "Got any clue where we are now?"

"Have you?" he asks me, he stops his pacing and looks at me for confirmation of whatever's plaguing him.

"Well, we're in District Thirteen, so I'm guessing we're still in Panem"

"We are in Panem" he says

Well. There's a start. I want to feel assured but from the frown displayed on the Doctor's face, I shouldn't be assured.

"The soldier back there, he mentioned a war going on."

"Yes. Yes he did." He says, I look at him, and he's put his hands on his hips as if trying to figure out a solution. A solution to what?

"And the people keep looking at me, Doctor. And that little girl back there. How did she know my name?" I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.

"You mentioned to me that you were named after your father."

"Yes, so what's the significance of it?" I ask, although for some reason, I think I'm finally getting it.

"Well I suppose it wouldn't hurt that you do look like him,"

He breathes in deeply, as if he's about to tell me something horrible. I haven't exactly shown him a picture of my father but I could tell he knows. And I think I'm finally putting the pieces together.

Thirteen. War. My father.

He looks at me, his mouth pulled into a frown. I can tell he regrets putting us both into this, because the next words coming out of his mouth are the same words circulating my mind back in the TARDIS.

"We're in the Great War of Panem"


	2. Discoveries

**AN: I hate the way this chapter ended but I promise it'll get better. :) Thoughts?**

There is a peculiar feeling of knowing something you never wanted to know, or maybe you've always known and you just try to avoid it.

For the Doctor, the feeling has never stopped. And if anything had changed over the same progression of feeling it is that it only gets worse. He had always kept in mind that the TARDIS always takes him where he needed to go, but sometimes it upsets him that the TARDIS always gives him a reason to travel alone.

He looks at Ronan, his sea-green eyes lost in thought. He isn't supposed to be here. This is paradox in the making and a rule against time. They both shouldn't be here. And if anything, this will only make things worse, especially to a boy like Ronan.

"So.." Ronan starts, finally putting the pieces together. "The Great War of Panem?"

"As you say so" he agrees.

"When I said you'd take me to when things were different, I never thought you'd take me back to when things were just beginning to make a difference." He says, looking back at the Doctor.

"We shouldn't be here." The Doctor replies. He regrets it. He regrets being here. This brings back bad memories and the ones he runs away from. He hates it.

But the curiosity in Ronan's eyes is clear, and they begin to envelop him and he doesn't like it. It sets a bad beginning.

"Why not Doctor? Maybe we could change something? Or make things better." Ronan says.

"No. We can't. This is a fixed point in time Ronan. Whatever happens in this timeline cannot be rewritten." He says this, putting both hands in his face, frustrated.

"But us being here, you never mentioned that being fixed?" Ronan insists.

"We being here could set a paradox- well basically we're already setting one, and it's not good."

"Why?"

"Because it could change what lies ahead"

"If this is a fixed point in time, how can we being here change it?"

"We're interfering with the proper timeline, and against the law of time itself. And it's not right."

"You're contradicting yourself, Doctor."

"I know. It's amusing don't you think?" he says with a smile, before realizing it and snaps himself back to the point.

"So what do we do now? We can't leave right away. We've been assigned a compartment, and we still need to follow the schedule." Ronan asks.

He doesn't want to leave. Not while the hopes of seeing his father here alive and real and probably walking around outside, eats his thoughts.

"We need to get back to the TARDIS, as soon as possible." The Doctor says. He stands up, looking around the compartment, and opens some drawers before making a remark of disgust.

"What's wrong?" Ronan asks.

"Do you really expect me to wear gray?" he holds up a gray shirt and pants with a lighter shade of buttons, and tries to examine himself in gray almost recoiling at while doing it. "Nope. Nope. This is horrible. We're leaving"

"Doctor, I think it's mandatory for everyone to wear gray here."

"Heavens. And just when I thought things could be worse." The Doctor says, throwing the gray clothes in the back of the room.

"You're already ditching this adventure, Doctor. Maybe we should, you know, stick around for a bit."

"I don't think we can, not with the possibility of time being rewritten." He says.

"We had a dare Doctor."

"Yes, and it's safe to say that I'm calling it quits. We're leaving." The Doctor says, moving across the room, towards the door.

"You're a chicken." Ronan starts.

The Doctor stops, obviously offended by the words, he turns around to an innocent looking Ronan, his sea green eyes challenging his blue ones and he knows this is one challenge he wouldn't dare lose.

"Say that again."

" . ."

"I'm a 2012 year old time lord who's seen time and space, I am not a chicken." He narrows his eyes at the boy in front of him refusing to succumb to his statements.

"Chicken." He continues, a cocky smile playing in his lips.

"I've battled aliens bigger than the mountains of Olympus Mons"

"Chicken."

"Daleks who could turn humans into like them."

"Chicken"

"The Weeping Angels bringing you back in time and feeding off your energy."

"Chicken."

"Cybermen who can eliminate your emotions and turn you into an enormous robot."

"Chicken."

"Parallel Universes."

"Hmm." Ronan looks at him with mock impression allowing the Doctor to smile, he's done it. He's won.

Ronan goes back to his unimpressed look before continuing, "To be honest Doctor, I have absolutely no idea what you've just said, except for the parallel universe statement. But really that doesn't really change who you are right now. A chicken."

The Doctor narrows his eyes and stares at the boy with such intensity but Ronan refuses to let it slide.

"You're really not going to stop are you?"

"Nope."

"You're really willing to risk your life for the sake of satisfying that never ending curiosity?"

"Isn't that the point of an adventure?" he asks in his bored tone.

"Yes. Well. Fine." The Doctor turns around. Ronan gives himself a triumphant smile and a silent "yes!" for victory.

"We can stay, but only for a day. The TARDIS needs to refuel herself anyway." The Doctor looks at Ronan who is still smiling, his eyes in deep thought as if arranging a list of his special things to do. Though excitement is evident, he shouldn't allow the boy to run too far. It would cause too much damage.

"Ronan." He starts.

"Doctor?"

"Don't mess things up." He advises, pulling out his sonic screwdriver and starts to scan their compartment for anything useful.

"Funny saying that as you started to mess things up."

"I'm trying to fix them" he says, frowning as there isn't much use of anything here.

"Well you're not doing a very good job are you?"

"You're starting to irritate me Odair."

"Well I'm sorry. You chose me as your companion, so basically I could blame you for making me irritating."

The Doctor groans, this time making Ronan laugh and in the process finally gaining his trust. It wouldn't hurt to trust an unknown man from the stars, who was just passing by because he needed a friend. Maybe he really did need a companion.

And for the first time, Ronan acknowledge the fact that he too, needed one.

* * *

Dinner proved to be quite difficult as the people of thirteen seem to be making both the Doctor and Ronan quite uncomfortable with their places, though the Doctor doesn't seem to mind, as he keeps on complaining about how dull the place is. He doesn't blame him though, it really is quite dull.

As stated in the rules, Ronan obliges to wearing the mandated gray uniform, which makes the Doctor cringe even more.

"Doctor, have you ever taken notice that almost everyone keeps looking at us?" he asks, interrupting the Doctor's comments on how horrible dinner looks like.

"Ronan, don't be ridiculous. Of course everyone's looking at us. We're new here!" the Doctor exclaims, before, taking a bite out of his dinner. He smiles, his sudden cringe at District 13's culture changes with every single bite.

He rolls his eyes at him, allowing himself to be preoccupied with his surroundings. He could recognize a few people here in his time, like the local peacekeeper Thom from District 12, or Greasy Sae, the woman who made exotic stew in District 12 when he was younger. District 13 was dull, but slowly it seemed to adapt a life it never had before.

The cafeteria was full of them. People from different Districts coming to know each other's stories, refugees and rebels, getting together, united by a single goal: freedom.

"Doctor," he starts, "how long had these people been oppressed?"

"75 years Ronan. The Hunger Games tied the districts down, having each district sign off two children to fight to death. Well as far as history goes down, Katniss Everdeen sparked the rebellion, underlying it." He says it as a matter of fact.

"It happened but it's still happening?" Ronan asks.

"Currently happening. The major points of history haven't been written yet." The Doctor says, wiping his mouth with his napkin.

"Does this mean my parents are here?" He asks again.

"Probably. I don't know what point yet." The Doctor answers.

Ronan, looks down at his dinner. Steak and gravy. He doesn't know where the steak came from, but judging from the apparent features of meat, it's best not to tell the Doctor it came from the dogs that were chained up earlier by the back. He pushes it away and focuses on eating the bread instead.

"Best to pack up on the energy, Odair. It's monitored here." The Doctor says eyeing the discarded steak.

"If you want it, Doctor you could have it. A skinny man like you needs more energy than I could."

"This skinny man with a blue box still has enough energy to run more laps than you ever could." The Doctor replies.

Ronan sighs and picks up both of their trays and stands to take them away. The Doctor walks with him, wiping invisible crumbs on his jacket and looks around. The suspicious looks directed at them are something he had always been used to, but there seems to be caution accompanied with it. It nicks at the back of his mind that maybe their presence could be significant to this point in time.

"You okay, Doctor?" Ronan asks, snapping him back to the world.

"Yes. I just need directions." The Doctor answers.

Ronan lifts one eyebrow, wondering why the Doctor had just started to be keen about their current situation. Either he knew something he didn't want him to know or he's asking for confirmation of whatever he knows.

The Doctor proceeds ahead of him, as he takes their trays to the side wondering what knowledge does the Doctor posses. He had just begun to realize that the Doctor is a man of different personalities and he wonders what it's like knowing everything that can and could happen and how significant is his actions to an event that could either change the future.

He looks back at the Doctor who had seem to finally found someone reliable or almost. A woman, shrugs to the Doctor before pointing to Ronan, or what seems like behind him. The Doctor looks at Ronan for a moment before Ronan can turn around.

It was like someone came out of the book. Or in Ronan's case, his family album. The one Annie would use to open up on his birthday, or Finnick's. He remembered it all, the way his mother described how clear his sea green eyes were, or how his bronze hair gleamed in the light or how his smile could make you light up. He remembered them all. He stored every single description of his father in his mind, spending days and nights building up an image or a personality based on his mother's words.

But nothing could equate to seeing him, alive and real.

Fairytales as they say. People never get tired of them. They always wait until they find it.

For Ronan Odair, it felt like the waiting was over.

Or so he thought.


	3. Leaving

**AN: I forgot to mention that this story alternates from Ronan's POV to second person. Also, I'm going back to class on Tuesday, hopefully I'll get time to write a chapter here and now as it takes a lot of effort to get myself immersed in one chapter. I'll try my best to manage my time for this and college. R&R! : )**

Chapter 3

When I was a young boy, I had a habit of jumping on my mother's bed whenever a day had an occasion to be celebrated about, whether it is my birthday or hers or the first day of summer, I never failed to surprise her by jumping on her bed until she'd catch me and tickle me back. I loved making my mom laugh because sometimes when she's not looking at me, I can see her green eyes grow dim and her mouth frown.

Sometimes when we'd go for a walk down the beach, I'd look back at her in the middle of looking for seashells and see her eyes distant towards the sea, her expression so far and longing, like she's waiting for dad to come back. It's those moments that I see my mother as someone else, a woman wishing for her lover to come home. So in those times, I don't try to distract her with anything, instead I try to make her smile, by asking her about him.

My mother painted a picture of my father, the way a writer would describe every tiny detail about love through words. She'd tell me the shade of his eyes and how clear and loving they were when he'd look at her, or how he wrote her a lot of corny poetry and leave them everywhere for her to find, she'd tell me how strong he was or how sometimes he'd wake up only to tell her he'd go back to sleep. She'd tell me how he used to kiss her stomach back when she was pregnant with me and she'd tell me he loved us very much enough to die for us to be safe, at this point, her eyes would get watery and she'd stop talking altogether.

They used to call her mad.

When I'm out running errands through the local market, I'd hear a few whispers, here and now about "the mad woman's son". They're very cautious about asking me about my mother, probably because she doesn't go out too much in places like those. Sometimes I ignore their whispers but other times I'd defend them with positive descriptions on how lovely she is or how she makes a good dinner. Other times I'd listen and feel sad about it, because sometimes it occurs to me that while I have love my mother very much, I'd wish my dad would be alive to tell me about her too.

And here I am, 20 years into the past with a madman himself, looking into the eyes of Finnick Odair, the man I was named after. Everything my mother ever told me about him was true, the clear shade of his sea-green eyes, the cocky smile and the way his hair was messy even his demeanor. He's holding a tray full of fruits covered in plastic (probably for my mother).

He's looking at me like he's seen me before and I couldn't deny that. We both look like one another, except for the fact that I have my mother's shade of hair. He's assessing me, I could say that from the way his eyes leave mine and travel from my feet to my uniform and back to my eyes. I could feel the Doctor's eyes on us too.

The woman, the Doctor was talking to introduces herself as "Paula Everdeen", Aunt Katniss' mother. She explains to dad how we're lost and that we don't know how to find the exit (I think the Doctor was referring to the exit that was the entrance to this place).

"I'm really sorry I couldn't help the both of you, but I'm sure Finnick here could." She apologizes and looks down at her watch, realizing she's late based on her suddenly alarmed expression, "If you could excuse me, I have to get back to the hospital"

The Doctor smiles at her, "No problem, Paula. Thank you for your help." He says.

Mrs. Everdeen smiles at both of us, acknowledges my father and leaves in a hurry. I watch her as she exits the cafeteria because it's so awkward being scrutinized by my not dead father's eyes.

"Have I seen you before?" he asks as if to break the ice.

I look back at him, thinking of a clever way to answer. No, of course you haven't seen me before. Or ever will, but I'm glad you've considered the possibility of seeing me before.

"Uhm…no."

"Are you from the Capitol?" He asks again.

"No, we're from District 4." I answer. Somehow I don't think telling him I'm from Four would clear up any future confusions.

"Funny. I'm familiar with a lot of people from Four, but I've never crossed paths with you before." He says, his eyes deep in thought.

"Yeah…I don't go out a lot. I usually stay with the Doctor," I explain, giving the Doctor the full floor of this conversation, seeing as I'm not good in one.

"Finnick right?" he asks, taking his free hand and happily shaking it with his. The Doctor smiles excitedly at him, to which my dad-or should I say Finnick Odair looks back at him with an unsure smile and nods.

"Finnick Odair, yes. And you are?"

"I'm the Doctor!" he says.

"Doctor?" he asks again, expecting another name to come after the title. The Doctor smiles in a secretive way as if being asked to answer a riddle only which he knows the answer to.

"Just the Doctor" I answer for him. He looks back at me, and I can see how clear his eyes are, thoughtful and piercing. It's hard to believe I inherited the same.

"What about you, kid?" he asks with a smile.

"Ronan." I answer. I didn't want to give him my first name, which was his. I felt like it would make things more confusing and awkward.

"Ronan?" he asks in the same manner as before, waiting for another name to come after. I look back at the Doctor for help before he takes the queue.

"Ronan Smith. My trusty companion." He tells him.

Finnick looks back at both of us and examines us together. He's still trying to figure out how he doesn't know us, since presumably, we're from Four.

"We're on sea a lot, so we basically don't spend too much time at Four." I explain, suddenly conscious of the things he's probably thinking of.

"Ahh," he nods, accepting my statement and somehow clearing the confusion in his head. I'm feeling a bit relieved until the Doctor asks another question, a question he's been trying to pinpoint out since we've found out where and when we have landed ourselves into.

"So, Finnick, I'd like to ask, considering how far I and my companion have journeyed, what part of the war are we in?" he asks.

This is something my mother had never talked to me about. The War in which dad partook of. I didn't bother asking her about it, not once. I always knew for a reason that it always upsets her, so I didn't try to ask her. I never wanted to see my mother upset.

I look at Finnick in curiosity, and he smiles and tells us, "We're one week from invading the Capitol. Hopefully when we successfully penetrated it, we're sure as winning this war as easy as coming back here,"

The Doctor smiles, like its' forced. I feel like he's seen this before in some other period. I briefly consider in asking him about it, when Finnick turns to us for another question.

"Mrs. Everdeen mentioned that both of you were looking for an exit. It's at the other side, from here, just take the hall from the left and you'll find it. Mind you though, it's heavily guarded."

"Thank you Finnick. It was nice meeting you." The Doctor says.

Finnick smiles at us and tells us "It was nice meeting, you too". He takes one more curious look at me before, leaving with the tray in his hand. I can see the silver ring in his finger, proudly glistening in the light before I follow the Doctor's sudden hurried footsteps.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"The TARDIS." He says.

"I thought you said we could stay here for a day?" I remind him. I've only just met my father, and now the Doctor seems to have realized how much of a mistake this would be. There's something else though.

The Doctor's eyes harden at my statement. He looks at me seriously and starts explaining, "Ronan. We've created a paradox. You just met your dead father back there."

He reminds me too, giving me a glimpse that this man could hurt too. More than anyone could.

"He's alive and well." I counter back.

"You know that it won't be for long." He says and I feel his sympathy boring on me.

The statement hits me, yes. He's dead. He's been dead for 20 years. I've watched my mother for 20 years sink into sadness from time to time because he's been dead for 20 years. He's dead. He's not coming back.

But here he is. Alive and well and strong, and practically happy being married to my mother. I know for a fact that my parents got married in the middle of the war, which was a good thing, knowing that they brought happiness with their love even for a single moment.

But the Doctor's sadness bores on me as well. I'm guessing he doesn't want me to see more of this period since we both know how it'll end.

"So you want us to leave to spare me the damage?" I tell him quietly.

I think I've voiced his thoughts out loud when I feel his arm on my shoulder and his eyes level with mine.

"It'll hurt less."

I look back at him, his eyes desperate to leave, and I am suddenly finding the means to trust him completely. Half of me wants to stay and find out more about my dad, and another half of me wants to leave and really spare me the damage that inflicted my mother. I want to ask him if he's been in war before since he seems to know something about it that I don't when he cuts my thoughts off.

"I heard a planet where people can breathe as fishes do." He says with a smile.

The thought of people with gills suddenly sounds ridiculous but knowing the Doctor for the past hours, I think everything about him is.

"Well, as long as those people don't have the appetites of a human eating shark, you can count me in." I say.

My statement must've lightened things up because he's smiling much easier than before and he excitedly walks us out towards the exit.

The exit has seemed to be having been more tightened since I've last saw it. There weren't any soldiers around like before but it's tightly locked. I try to open it with all my might but alas. It's too tight.

The Doctor pushes me aside and pulls out his sonic screwdriver and points it at the lock. It responds after a few clicks and starts to open along with the sudden sound of alarm blazing through the hallways.

That we did not expect. I look at the Doctor, and he looks back at me, an alarmed look at his face. Of course. It's accompanied with a tight security itself. How could we have missed that?

The sudden steps echoing the gray hallways bring us back to our senses, so we run. I try to remember the closet where we'd landed into, as I pass the empty hallways.

The Doctor follows behind me and though I'm leading up, I can still hear the loud footsteps.

We're nearing the janitor's closet, when the Doctor lets out a loud cry of pain. I look back at him only to find him having some sort of seizure, there's a contraption stuck in his back causing the seizures. I can't touch him but he seems to have dropped his screwdriver so I pick it up and try to point it at the contraption, not knowing exactly how it works so I try to push some buttons on it.

It seems to work though because he's stopped having seizures and lays still. I try to make sure he's still breathing, by placing my ear near his mouth and when I have, I pick him up, and put his arm on my other shoulder and try to make it to the TARDIS before they can catch us. I can still hear the nearing footsteps, so I drag him instead.

It doesn't work though because of the Doctor's weight. I try to find some remote cover near the closet and when I do, I place the Doctor beside me and wait for them to pass us by.

There seems to be four of them. The heavy footsteps echoing through the halls rings in my head as I catch my breath. I look at the unconscious man besides me, and decide that I have to wait for the soldiers to pass.

It takes a while. Minutes pass with each heaving breath until I can finally breathe in a normal pattern again.

When I'm sure the coast is clear, I help the Doctor up to his feet and start dragging/carrying him again towards the closet. I'm about to open the knob when I feel a sharp stinging pain in my back and electricity shooting in my nerves before everything fades to black.


	4. Falling

AN: I apologize for the long wait! I've been having a hard time juggling this in between college work but hopefully I can make up. Your thoughts on this could also help. Enjoy!

* * *

The full moon sweeps across the vast sea, illuminating and bringing out the blues and greens patterned in small ripples of waves as he hauls the fishing net down into its depths, wiping the sweat off his forehead as he does so.

His mother wasn't very keen in letting him go fishing at this time of the night, but he always made it a point that the fish preferred to swim in the night because he thinks that they didn't have to hide that much and that it allowed them to be free (well so far this wasn't entirely factual but he always relied on his imagination to make up a reasonable reason) and felt that tonight was a good opportunity to catch them.

He looks down at his submerged fishing net, hoping he'll have something to take home to as proof before making the motion to spread out the rolled mat at his side and laying down under it, putting both arms behind his head, and looks up above.

The silent night and passing wind were his sole company tonight and the full moon shining brightly occupied his thoughts as he tries to count up each star blinking in the sky.

He briefly wonders how far each star is to one another. He remembers reading that stars were light-years apart from each other, but it doesn't stop them from burning. How sad must it be for a single star to look close to another yet feel so far?

In his younger days, especially during his parents wedding anniversary, his mother would take him out for a nice walk on the beach at night and tells him happy memories and stories about his father all the way looking up at the brightly lit sky, he often took notice, the rare smile creeping up on her lips and the way her green eyes would shine with tears (sometimes happy tears) it made her all the more beautiful.

A wave of sadness suddenly drowns his heart when he thinks about it, on how she'd whisper prayers of longing and recollections accompanied with nostalgia. He thinks of his father as a sailor, lost in these waters, never to be found. Sadness has a way of tainting happiness even if they were to be held together.

The sudden pull of gravity shifts his thoughts out of place. He feels the motion of the boat, and it tells him that he's caught a target. The waves of sadness fade into that of excitement as he eagerly stands and looks over at the waters, holding the fishing net.

But the excitement crumples into confusion as he holds up the net supposed to be full of fishes. It's as weightless as it had been, and completely devoid of gravity. He looks up and around, wondering if there's some sort of reason that could explain the unusual turn of events.

Instead he finds the silence he had grown aware to. The calling of the waves, the passing of the wind and illuminating moon only provides the answers to his confusion.

He drops back the net into the sea and scratches the back of his neck, wondering about the sudden pull of gravity.

The silence of the night drops down so quickly, that he could hear a pin drop. He grows aware of it by the second and starts to walk around the small dock. He's heard of several legends about the mythical creatures of the sea, like mermaids who'd drown men or giant octopuses that could squeeze the life out of a boat, sea witches who could enchant you with their beauty you'd end up spending years in their company.

These filled his thoughts on the younger days when he'd play by the sea, hearing fishermen talk about such strange yet wonderful stories. He tucked those stories in his mind and allowed himself to run through them when his English teachers would ask them to make up their own stories about the sea.

It's amazing how the things he'd found really wonderful as a child had turned into the things he is most wary about.

The dock is empty aside from his nets and fishing materials. But the wind has calmed down to eerie silence. It would have been alright if he had someone with him, but tonight was the first night he had fished alone.

He decides to check the cabin below, looks around in case and starts to descend the ladders down into the small room when he hears it.

The sound of the wind mixed along with something new.

Something that sounded like something is landing on the deck.

He immediately closes the door enough to get a peek at what has landed in his dock.

The sharp blue catches his eyes. He lists the details in his mind.

First, it wasn't just any kind of blue; it was the bluest blue he had ever seen. Much bluer than the sky itself on sunny days. It was the brightest shade of blue that attracted him with the words "POLICE BOX" imprinted at its door.

Second it was old. The wooden blue box was painted with a few scratches and wounded marks, it's as if it's traveled for a thousand years, and still manages to carry on.

The third thing that made him come out of his hiding place was the man whose outfit was out of the ordinary. An old brown jacket coupled with a blue ribbon on his shirt.

No one wears ribbons on their shirts anymore, the thought sounded a bit silly.

The man looks a bit like in his mid-thirties, the creases on his forehead and the frown displayed on his face only allowed him to further support his thoughts.

The man looks around the dock, merely unimpressed by his surrounding as he puts both his hands on his waist and huffs, "And I thought I'd end up digging myself out of the ground."

He looks around, wondering if there were any people on board, pertaining to the young man hiding below. The young man sees his footsteps, making loud noises in the night as he wanders around the dock.

The second shift to the left, stumbles both of them. The young man hangs on but the man on the upper side entangles his feet at the lying fishing net in the dock. He peeks out again only to see him trying to untangle himself out of the nets.

"Blimey, some people just don't know where to put their stuff." He hears him say.

The statement annoys him, but before he could rebut back the statement, the boat shifts back harder to the left making him stumble back at the bottom of the cabin, and hearing a huge splash. The sound of a body pulled down by a swarm of fish.

He rubs his injured side, before climbing back up and seeing the dock empty of his net. He doesn't think twice, and removes his shirt before plunging in to the deep waves.

* * *

Drowning.

I am drowning.

The blackness pulls me down into its depth. I feel like I'm falling even further. The jolt of electricity felt like energy shooting in my veins, making me feel more alive.

So, so alive it felt like I was dying too.

The ground is much harder than I thought and much colder than I had presumed, and yet I feel like I've fallen into the ocean, dragging me around and settling me into one. I can feel something jolting into my veins. A different type of water I breathe in. My body feels like jelly, but my mind is falling.

Falling.

Falling.

Like Alice in that old book in the library I used to read when I was little.

Except I'm not in Wonderland.

I'm in a different time with a mad man in a blue box who dared me to travel with him. I'm not Alice.

I'm not falling.

I'm not.

I hear muttering, and whispers. A man with a gruffy voice say something about "imposters" and "breaching" and for a moment I allow myself to revel in the fear that something bad is going to happen.

I am alive but motionless.

Conscious and falling.

And fearful of what I had allowed myself to be put through.

"He's stable." They say.

How stable am I? How can I believe what they say when they're not even aware of what's happening to me? How can people tell you something you're not aware of and let yourself believe in it simply because you think that what they say is true?

"He's breathing rapidly."

"How much voltage did you shoot him with?"

"Only the normal dose."

"Enough to almost kill him?"

I don't speak out loud to this. I only permit my mind to drown out everything. It's better that way.

"He'll be fine; it's just a side effect"

"Who is he anyway?"

"Ronan Smith. Just came in today. Didn't mention any place but District Four."

"He looks awfully familiar to someone."

"I'll say. I keep wishing for someone a lot like that Finnick soldier."

"Here's hoping he's not taken."

"Missy, everyone you like is taken"

"You never know when one isn't."

"Better late or never as they say"

I can hear them laugh and giggle before I hear their words tone down to the dripping of a liquid and even though I couldn't see anything, I can feel the lights turn off and their footsteps grow further away.

I am Ronan Odair and I made a dare with a man who couldn't even make any sense of what's happening around him.

I am Ronan Odair and my life made sense before and now I'm lost and alone inside a room without anyone to hold on to.

I am Ronan Odair and I worry that people will find my ship empty and how my mother will react about finding out that I am lost.

I cannot feel anything but regret and guilt for my selfish thoughts on leaving something behind for the sake of seeing something new.

I think of the Doctor and how easy it was to trust someone who's sailed a different ocean than I had.

It's always been like that. A situation like this has always been played out frequently in my life

You trust people, they get into trouble, you try to help and you get pulled down with them.

Either way they always leave so there's no guarantee to permanence in a relationship. As far as I'm concerned though, I'm starting to realize the gravity of what I had gotten myself into and I wonder how painful must it be for my mother to lose her only son to a place she's told in her stories at night.

I miss her already.

_I'm sorry Mom._

I close everything off, and wait for me to hit the ground.

* * *

The Doctor moans in pain, before opening his eyes at the ceiling. His not so dainty escape plan didn't work as he had hoped for. He reverts back to the feeling of the electrical jolt spread throughout his body alarmed at the amount of electricity his body had converted into live energy.

He doesn't feel weak. He feels alive and kicking than he had for the past 2012 years.

The gray ceiling paints dull pictures in his mind before he hears the clinking of glassware and small footsteps right near where he's lying at.

He sits up and looks at the small girl in front of him holding a tray. She has her back to him so he could see her blond hair braided back and her small frame indicating that she was no more than thirteen. She's setting up a glass of water and mashed potatoes on the table when he clears his throat.

She freezes at her actions before turning around to the strange man in ridiculous clothes.

"Hello!" he greets.

The blues of her eyes are bright yet they hold fear and suspicion. She takes him in, as if she's expecting something bad to happen. He can feel her tension so he tries to ease it as he can.

"I'm the Doctor" he introduces.

She nods slowly and breathes in before asking "Are you a real Doctor?"

"Yes." He says, a smile taking place.

"How come you're not wearing clothes like the other doctors?" She asks, staring at the blue bowtie and black suspenders he's wearing. He looks down at his clothes before looking back at the blonde haired girl.

"Oh, I prefer a different type of color combination. Plus, bowties are cool." He says, straightening his bowtie.

"I think they're ridiculous." She says.

"They are not!" He replies, his smile faltering to a frown as he pushes himself off the bed. He looks down at this little girl who looks up at him suspicion wearing down a little yet keeping a firm stand on her ground.

"Yes they are. They're like ribbons you put in your hair, but instead you put them in your shirt." She argues.

"Well isn't that the point?"

"What's your name?" the Doctor asks.

"Prim. Primrose Everdeen."

"That's a lovely name."

"I was named after a rose. An evening rose."

"I bet it's beautiful."

He finally sees the smile forming in her lips before she turns back to fixing the meal she had left previously. He observes her first before looking around the room to figure out where he's been put through.

The gray color hasn't faded as he had hoped so; dullness decorates this place more than any color he has ever seen.

"Where am I?"

"After the guards heard the alarms screaming, they thought someone from the Capitol got in and they probably thought you were so they shot you both, with an immobilizing gun. I was assigned by my trainer to check on you in case you'd wake up. " She explains.

"That's very sweet of you Prim," he says, looking at the tray. The smell reminds him of a thought far too long ago and he looks at this young girl reminds him of the first time he met Amelia Pond.

"You're not really from the Capitol are you?" she asks

"No." he answers.

"Are you a rebel then?" she asks.

"No. I'm just passing by, visiting. I was with someone and-" He senses something wrong when he could not see his companion around.

Prim follows his expression suddenly remembering about the other man who was withheld at the upper floors.

"Where is he?" he asks.

She can remember his faint moans of pain earlier before her instructors asked her to keep an eye on the Doctor.

"He's on the upper floors." She answers.

The Doctor takes his jacket hanging by the sides of a chair, before running off, leaving a confused Prim standing alone. She thinks of his strange demeanor and how ridiculous he seems before he appears right beside her.

"Where are the upper floors?"

"Take the elevator to the right by the hallways down ten rooms from here." She says.

"Brilliant!" he answered before he spins around towards the door only to face back the little girl staring at him profoundly.

"Would you like to help me find him?"

The smile that she permits to show gives him the courage to grab her small hand and run towards the dull walls that had suddenly turned into a maze of gray.


	5. Wonderland

**AN: This will be my last update in a while, considering that classes start on the 3rd. I deeply apologize for the lack of tone in the previous chapter. I needed a filler and I thought it would do me one, I'm hoping I can make it up with this one. I hope you'll enjoy it! Thoughts could help, if you may. :)**

The dripping of the water brings me back to light as I permit myself to finally open my eyes, and as expected, I only see gray.

Gray as moths.

Gray as walls and dullness as it had always been.

There's the usual feeling of hopelessness ringing around the room begging for me to stick with it as lie here, but there's a greater need of curiosity and wonder pulling me up. This by chance is increased when I remember that the Doctor is not with me.

I try to sit up and find that it's much easier to this time. I shake my head to set out thoughts of sleep. The room is an empty space crammed with nothing but a table with water dripping down its corner.

I feel numb, as if that shot drained me out of energy and I merely try to recall when I was wearing a hospital gown since I was only electrocuted.

It's fairly cold and my clothes are nowhere to be found, so I take the bed sheet and wrap it around myself. It's silly I know, but at least I'm warm.

I walk over to the door and try to make sure that no one is around watching my every move. The door creaks open, and it feels like I'm isolated from everyone else.

I find the situation quite funny considering the amount of time I spend isolating myself from everyone trying to get myself to open up to in my time.

The hallways are suspiciously quiet. There's a nagging thought at the back of my head saying I could turn around and pretend that I'm still sleeping but then again, I need to find the Doctor. I have to repeat this with every step that I make. I don't want to give up now and have different people poke around me and interrogate me with something I'm not even sure about.

I'm not even sure about this place.

If it's anything that I keep repeating, it's the same as before. Dull. Gray.

I could fall asleep in this place. I wish someone could give a little color in these halls. Aside from its vibrant splash of gloominess and boredom, it's also long and winding. A maze of different halls with rooms that makes you want to open and find out about every secret this place holds.

It's also terrifyingly lonely or maybe that's just me trying not to be overly suspicious about my wanderings. Still, I have to give them credit for this because I'm pretty sure they'd have found out that I've gone out on my own. That or they're pretty much preoccupied with the war.

I've reached the end of the hall, and it's marked by an elevator. I don't know if I should take it but I get this feeling that the Doctor is somewhere much farther from me.

I'm about to press the button to my floor when I hear the floor alarms ring through the halls. A mix of adrenaline and a variety of emotions flow through my system as I try to remain as calm as possible. I can picture those people in white looking around my room and panicking that a patient they have quarantined is lost.

Though in my case, it's another reason for them to become more wary of me.

The alarms grow louder by the second and it matches my pace of jumping up and down to get rid of the sudden urge to run. I'm lucky enough that a small room enough for my size is right at the side is waiting for me to duck in and hide. I figure I could use a little disguise, so by the time I could hear their increasing and nearing footsteps, I open its doors and revel in the darkness.

It's small alright, a janitor's closet filled with a bucket, and a mop. I could hear them walking nearer so I try not to do anything to give them a reason to open it.

"He's gone again!" a man says. He's probably somewhere in his middle ages.

"I don't understand how anyone could try and run. This is the safest place we could have put him!" a younger and lighter voice replies at his statement.

"Yeah, he's probably deranged. No doubt in that. Probably one of those hijacked patients like that Mellark kid." He says.

"This could be bad; we've let a loose lunatic out and about!"

Well this is a first of all first impressions I have ever made a stranger say. Needless to say, I am clearly not going to take this shit. I arm myself with the mop in case they barge in here but instead I hear them say something else,

"We should check the other halls,"

"Good idea!"

I hear their footsteps grow further and away from where I'm hiding and just when I can no longer hear them, the alarms stop and the ding of the elevator signals that my ride has arrived. I open the door, cautiously (just in case) and bring the mop with me, you never know when it could come in handy.

I'm about to step inside when I hear a woman shout at my direction. "HEY!"

Well so much for proper timing. I see her scoot over her other co-workers and point in my direction. They sprint as fast as they can enough to make me push down the button to close the door as forcefully as I can.

"STOP!" they yell. How slow can this thing close?! The nearer they come, the harder I press down. I'm about to give myself up when it closes, just in time for their arms to reach through.

"STOP! STOP!" they yell. A frantic of arms reaches through me as the doors squeeze them. I narrow my eyes at them and smack them with the mop. It seems to work because they scream in pain (and annoyance). I give them one last good kick just to remind them who they're dealing with.

And just like that, they give up as the doors close in on them.

That's when I release my breath and crouch down the corner. I don't know if this is exhaustion or excitement speaking volumes at me, but it's new and something I have thirsted for since I was younger. And if anything, I'm looking forward for more.

* * *

"So if you're not from the Capitol and you're not from anywhere near here, where are you from?" Prim asks, as the Doctor leads in the way.

"I was just traveling with my companion. I was going to take him to an underwater planet full of fish people," he says. Their voices echoing the halls as they continue treading it.

Prim looks at him, absurd at such statement. He is really a strange man. Ridiculous was fine at first, but fish people?

"Fish people?" she asks, voicing out her thoughts.

"Yes. They're a new breed of species that rose out from when the codonian people mated with the humans. They're very interesting and they seem to have a fair sense of humor."

"That's ridiculous!" she exclaims. Never before had she met such a bizarre person.

"I know!" the Doctor laughs before continuing, "They also loved hanging nets as curtains almost as if they're trying to decorate them with their food!"

Prim shakes her head. They should have quarantined this man rather than the younger one.

"You're ridiculous," she states.

"Well aren't we lot?" he says. This earns him a smile from her. She doesn't understand yet, oh but she seems to trust him already. Don't they all?

"So you're a traveler?" she asks again.

"I think we cleared that up,"

"Where did you travel from?"

"A faraway place."

"How far?"

He stops and turns around to stare at her, inquiring blue eyes eager to know more. She gives him memories. Sad and happy memories.

"Very far."

"And no one's worried about you?"

"None at the moment," he says, a sudden feeling of sadness overwhelming him. It's always like that. A small group of roots tugging at his hearts when he gets reminded of it.

She nods at his words before pointing at the elevator door. He smiles and runs towards it. She follows right after.

"What floor is he in?" he asks.

"Somewhere near the 21st."

"What floor is this?" he asks, looking around.

"30th." She answers. He nods, before pulling out a screwdriver, though it's not an ordinary screwdriver as he points it he buttons, a green light and bits of sonic sound beam from it.

She stares at it in wonder before asking, "What is that?"

"My sonic screwdriver." He says.

"It's like a magic wand," she states.

"Oh it's better than a magic wand. It's sonicky!" he says as he holds it up and presses a button to make the familiar sound of sonic.

She stares at it, a smile creeping up on her face. What more could this man have under his sleeves? She looks at his smile, and there he has them. Eager to know, curiosity pouring out. And before she knows it, she has willingly trusted him.

The sound of the elevator opening breaks them as he jumps inside with excitement and stares at her, standing outside the doors.

"I'm not supposed to leave my post," she says suddenly.

"Considering that your post has decided to wander around, I'm guessing you'll have to follow him too," he states. He lends her an open hand, waiting for her decision.

"I'm going to get in trouble," she says, looking up at him.

"Oh isn't that what makes this exciting?"

Will that smile ever fade? She asks herself. It's inviting, and it's a risk. She surely would be in trouble if she lets out a strange man she was assigned to, but the invitations to do something out of the ordinary is something she yearns on having after a life of dreaming for it.

Her doubts were replaced by a sudden clarity of boldness as she takes in his hand and jumps inside, falling right beside him. He points his sonic screwdriver by the button and it closes in taking them to another floor where Ronan was supposedly staying.

* * *

The door opens to a strange place. It's occupied by compartments where the rebels and refugees are supposedly staying since I can spot a few children running around the corners of the halls.

I'm confused for a moment before realizing that those people could still be after me. Maybe they've alarmed the other officials. Maybe I'm on the wanted lists. But the laughter and the unfamiliarity of the people in this place suggests that maybe it's safe for me to disguise myself in here.

Still, I take the mop with me in case I'd need it. I step out of the doors and work my way around this floor, hoping the Doctor is around here somewhere making a fuss (or a mess) whichever. I just need to find him so we can go.

It's another maze of halls and gray here as well but unlike the previous ones, this one seems to have more life than the others. My previous thoughts on it being a hall of compartments is proven right as I don't feel the need to be overly suspicious with the people living in this floor. Still, wouldn't want to make any more messes so I try to be cautious with my actions.

I'm walking by the other end, trying to avoid the children and or any other person who might get the chance to recognize me when I spot them. A few feet from where the shadows hide me. They're standing by the sides, hand in hand, and smiles brighter than any smile I have ever seen.

And they're younger, much younger than I could remember, the photos my mother would show me does no justice to this. The carefree feeling they show off, and the love they have for another overpowers anything else. I have always known that my mother was beautiful but her beauty right now is breath taking. Clearly there's no denying, how she had probably caught his eyes. I can't tell you how it is. The warmth of her smile, the love in her eyes, the curl of her dark brown hair and her somewhat fragile yet strong body exudes a different kind of beauty in comparison to his, as the others put it "dashing" looks. She's laughing at some kind of joke he's whispering in her ears. The green of her eyes clear as she looks at him, and he looks back the same, reflecting what she's feeling. She reaches up to his level on her feet so she could kiss him and I can see the smile on his face continuous and ever flowing with happiness.

They are so in love, it breaks me. Had I been a little boy at this moment, I would come running up to them just to feel their love. Sadly, I can't. So I stand here, hiding in these dimly lit corners with a mop, watching my young parents love each other.

But their happiness affects everything else, as I watch a group of children run pass through them, one of them is a small girl with bright locks of brown, who waves at them excitedly, my mother seems to recognize her as she turns around to wave at them, not letting go of my father's hand. I briefly wonder if I already exist at this point. Two points in one timeline. Is this even possible?

I peek out again, wishing I could capture this moment, and seeing how much it warms my heart. This kind of happiness does exist, and I wonder what it's like to be completely in love with someone the way they loved each other.

They walk towards where I'm hiding at and I'm feeling a bit of excitement and anxiety all at the same time. Will my mother recognize me? Of course she won't. I don't even exist yet. Or maybe I have and she doesn't know it yet. This could be awkward. Will my mother in the future recall this moment and realize how strange it must be and how much in trouble will I be in when I come back home? I'm asking this to myself just as they're passing by and I can see from the way his sea green eyes shifts from hers to mine that he recognizes me, it takes me a minute to understand that he's talking to me.

"What?" I repeat.

"Nice outfit." He comments.

Oh. Right. I'm still in my hospital gown. Which technically is tissue paper on my skin, barely covering that fact that I'm in my underwear. Also the fact that I'm armed with a mop won't do anything to explain why I'm here.

"Thanks, they're from the hospital," I say.

He smiles at that, but when I look at her besides him, I can see her eyes narrow as if she's wondering where I had come from. I'm pretty sure she's noticed the fact that I resemble her husband, who is also my dad. This makes it even harder for me to take in. Maybe this is what it's like being badgered by your parents when you come home late.

"Hospital?" she asks.

He looks at her, surprised at her question and looks back at me, awaiting for an explanation at my current situation.

"Yeah. I thought I could borrow one of their gowns for a change. I didn't like their dress code here."

He chuckles at that and I allow myself to give in to it by smiling proudly. She's still curious about me. Her eyes thoughtful as they are when she helps me work through a puzzle.

"Why were you in the hospital?" she asks.

"Oh. Well, I got a nasty bruise from running around," I explain.

They both look at me strangely and I want to laugh at how absurd this is. My parents, not even knowing that they're probably or already are parents have got me cornered and are sort of concerned by my state. It's funny in an absurd yet good way because we're family. A definitely out of place family. Or maybe it's me.

"Well have they taken care of it?" He asks.

"Yeah. I feel better now." I tell them. I give them a huge smile so as not to mislead them.

He nods at that before realizing that we hadn't made any introductions yet.

"Right, uhm sorry. Annie, this is Ronan," he introduces me, I hold out my hand and she takes it, the warmth and smoothness of her skin hasn't changed over the years. This same hand that had held mine in the waters had never changed as her love didn't. I look back at her, a soft smile gracing her face.

"Ronan, this Annie. My beautiful wife." He proudly says. She blushes at that and it makes him smile even more. I have to restrain my arms not to jump up at them and hold them tightly because I have always wanted this. I want this version of my parents intact forever. I'm not saying I want to replace my mother, my current mother in the future, but I want her to be this happy forever. I want my dad alive and well, vibrant and loving as he is now.

"I can see that," I say. She looks at me as if she recognizes me in some way, the blush on her cheeks still apparent.

I quickly take back my hand and look back at them. I have to keep moving. They might have an armada looking out for me and I don't my parents getting involved in it. Best to stay clear out of their way.

"Hello. Sorry for distracting your wonderful walk, I was just looking for my friend. I seem to have lost him" I continue.

"Is he that Doctor friend of yours?" he asks me.

"Yeah that's him,"

"I haven't seen him around since yesterday evening," he says.

"Doctor?" she asks.

"His companion." He explains to her.

At the words "companion," an announcement is heard around the halls. A female voice announces an escaped mentally deranged patient who might be currently lurking the halls and issues out an order to arrest me if seen. She carries out my description, the tall, dark haired boy from District Four so no one can miss out on what I look like and mentions my name, Ronan Smith.

Both of them look back at me, their thoughts shifting from a casual interested look to shock and disbelief. I'm torn from explaining to them my current situation to running away, but the screams of "THERE HE IS!" makes me consider the latter part.

"It was nice meeting you!" I say before grabbing the mop and escaping from the people running after me. I briefly wonder why he didn't even stop me or grab hold of me. Maybe there is some kind of connection woven in time.

I dash through the gray halls with a smile; I don't know why I feel happy. Maybe because I finally met him. Maybe I know that's he finally real or that I had talked to him. It's enough to fill the empty wonders I had let myself sink into in those years.

"COME BACK!" they scream, and it's bringing me back to my situation. I feel a different kind of adrenaline coursing through my veins. And I realize that this is the first time I'm having fun since we had arrived.

Their steps seem to have gone heavier and faster as I have. I consider changing floors so I try to circle my way back to the elevator. But first I need to make a distraction of sorts.

I take the first right, allowing myself to make way at my pursuers. They pass by me without a glance, giving me a chance to turn the other way around.

I'm about to run back when someone grabs me by the head. Strong arms lock around me, concealing my movements. I try to flail around and kick my legs as he yells out to his fellow workers, "I GOT HIM! I GOT THE LUNATIC!"

At the words lunatic, I briefly remember how people call my mother "mad". They say it like it's some sort of disease that can infect you. Like its disgusting or something that's taboo. I remember their pitying looks, the way they'd shake their heads as if she's a lost cause.

I allow it to consume me, the mixture of sadness and anger. The height of his body allows me to locate several of his weak points. He's got me by the head and waist, so my arms are still somehow free. I use my good elbow to jab him in the ribs as hard as I could and he relents to its pain. He drops me, as I gasp for air. He's on the ground rubbing his lower chest as I grab my mop and whip it at his head, knocking him out.

"REDGER?! WHERE IS HE?" I hear them ask loudly. They come in closer than I expected too so I leave him out and carry on my previous plan.

It's amazing that I get to go through such amounts of emotions in a short time and how easily they could be triggered. It's never been this unsteady; maybe it's something new too.

I reach the elevator just in time for it to open up. I aim my mop in case it's more of those so called soldiers or keepers, whatever they are. I keep myself steady and ready so I can get it right.

I'm counting seconds before it opens up to the Doctor and a blond haired girl staring back at me in shock.

"Well, that didn't take much effort," he says by greeting

"I'm glad to see you again too," I say sarcastically, "Thanks for leaving me as an experiment by the way. It was nice having different people poke around at me," I add.

He merely looks at me in confusion, before saying, "Yes I was just about to ask what happened to you,"

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Well seeing as they've had us separated in floors, they've either figured who we are or, we might be actually in prison," He says.

"THERE HE IS!" they yell again.

I grab the Doctor by the arm, "Talk later. Run now." I say. The blond haired girl simply stays put and looks at my pursuers as if she recognizes them. Well, they're probably acquainted with each other.

"PRIM!"

"Doctor! Wait!" she says as I lead the Doctor away from those people. She's in alliance with them, no doubt about it. The white uniform gave it away.

"Why are we running?" he asks

"To save our lives, you idiot!" I yell at him.

"We're running and you're in underwear," he points out

"Really now? I hadn't noticed." I reply back.

We take the next left turn, grateful that the children have enough sense to let us have our way. We take huge steps, trying not trip or fall, but they seem to catch up on us.

I'm thinking of setting a trap when we reach a dead end.

"What do you think they're going to do to us?" I ask and turn to him. He's looking around the place like there's some sort of passageway around it.

"My best guess is they'll imprison us and accuse us of being spies,"

"Well isn't that something to look forward to?" I say, narrowing my eyes at him. He's got nothing with him but his screwdriver. What good can a sonic screwdriver do with a pile of heavily armed guards about to pound us?

"So got any good ideas?" I ask him again.

"Yes,"

"Let me hear it,"

"I'm still thinking about one,"

Are you actually kidding me? I look at him in disbelief. I want to hit the mop on his head to give him a good one, but I don't think having another body to carry whilst running would do me any good.

"Yeah well let me know when you work it out," I say as I arm myself. A pile of fish is alright but 200 pounds of heavily armed men caged with immobilizing guns is something I don't really deal with often.

They come charging at us like a pack of bulls, when the Doctor looks at me and says, "Ronan, you really should learn to trust me," and adds up a cocky smile.

"Yeah well that's one mistake I'll try not to fall into," I say.

He points his screwdriver at the speakers, and turns to me, "Cover your ears" as I eye the speakers and instinctively drop the mop to cover my ears.

He presses a button in his sonic screwdriver and it resonates a horrible sound enough to tear your head off. I peek at the people who were charging at us to find them covering their ears, gritting their teeth and groaning in pain. I push the Doctor off to end this and grab his hand and run pass them, they try to block out our way though so I hit them as hard as I could, dodging their advances and giving them a bruise instead.

"Where did you learn to do that?" he asks as I give another one a welcoming kick to the side.

"Oh you know, perks of having lots of time by myself." I say casually. It's ridiculous how we can manage to strike up a casual conversation while running to save our lives. I look back at him and he seems to be enjoying this, as if it's something that's normal to him. I wonder if he's had any other companions in his journey.

We make our way back to the elevator, haggard but cautious enough to make sure no one's after us anymore. The Doctor pulls out his screwdriver and points it at the elevator button, as if it's a lever that makes it go down faster.

"HEY! STOP!" they yell again.

"Doctor is there any way you could make it go faster?" I ask impatiently. I'm getting tired of this.

"Just a minute," he says.

"Yeah but they won't be waiting for it," I say, motioning to the group of people charging at us. I arm my mop, again. Panic filling up in me over the images of torture or whatever form of device they'll use to hassle out information from us. The corridors are very long, but their speed makes it so untrue that I find myself, yelling at the Doctor to open it faster.

"You know it would help if the time it takes for it to go down can go a little bit faster!"

"Yes it would if you could wait a little!" he yells back, annoyed.

I'm thinking of grabbing the Doctor's arm again as they come nearer when he makes a sound of triumph. The elevator opens behind me as he pulls me inside immediately, that I end up falling into it just as the doors are about to close but enough for one of them to jump over and grab my foot.

He yells, "I GOT HIM! I GOT HIM!" as the doors close in on his extended arm. I kick my free foot at his as the Doctor presses the buttons to close in further.

I grab the mop by my side and poke him on the forehead with the other end as hard as I can. He's got a pretty firm hold of it, so I poke him in the eye with it, enough to have him let go of my foot and hear him curse loudly right before the doors close in on him.

As soon as the elevator moves I let out the breath that I didn't know I was holding. Relief floods through me as I look up at the Doctor who inspects his sonic screwdriver as if there's something wrong with it.

"Do you do this a lot?"

"What?" he asks, preoccupied with his screwdriver.

I try to catch my breath as I look up at him again, "This running a lot from people chasing you,"

"Yes, of course I do. How do you think I do my exercise, Odair?" he says, a bit annoyed.

I roll my eyes at him as I try to get up on my feet. I eye the elevator numbers, amazed at how many floors it could go to.

"Doctor, is this actually a huge building?" I ask him curiously.

"I have no idea yet to be honest."

"Well, isn't that the first thing we should have known when we got here?" I ask him. I mean yes, we do know where we are, but how much do we know about this place? We could be walking into a death trap and we wouldn't even know.

"Yes. Sorry. I got carried away by the paradox we just created." He says, looking at me and narrowing his eyes at me.

"You're actually blaming me for this?" I ask him, feeling a deep feeling of sudden anger at him.

"Of course not. But we should have left, the sooner we had arrived." He says.

"You know, come to think of it, you never told me more about this timeline. All you keep on saying is how we should leave or how dangerous this is because it can affect the future. You don't talk about the EXACT reason why we can't stay. Why?" I ask.

The elevator shifts to the left, surprising us both, I'm left momentarily amazed by the way it moves before I look back at the Doctor who seems to be suppressing an emotion I can't describe yet. He's frowning, his eyebrows furrowed, his eyes narrowing.

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because some things aren't meant to be touched. We should let them flow. Think of it as the ocean, if you stop it, water won't flow."

"That doesn't mean we can't swim inside it." I counter.

He hits himself in the head when he realizes what I have said. He looks at me like I'm more of a nuisance than a companion, right now.

"There are limits to swimming Ronan. You know that."

"Yeah, well I'm not the one who almost drowned after getting himself entangled with fishing net."

"Yes, well I don't leave my things scattering,"

"It wasn't scattered, you weren't looking where you were going,"

"I'm not the one in my underwear right now," he says.

"That's not even the topic of our conversation!" I say absurdly. His eyes observe my body and I feel conscious because I'm wearing a hospital gown and as far as it covers the front of my body, it's still tissue paper on my skin.

"Will you stop looking at me!" I yell.

"Did you meet anyone Ronan?" He asks, ignoring my previous statement.

"Why?" I ask.

"Answer the question." He says, his tone changing into something of an order. I'm curious of his back-to-back mood swings, so I comply.

"Yes."

"Who did you meet?" he asks carefully.

I try to avoid his eyes, but he's looking at me like he can see every single thought in my brain. I let out a breath, remembering the consuming happiness I had felt just moments ago, before I look back at his blue eyes.

"My parents." I say. He closes his eyes and I think he lets out a curse under his breath.

"Have you had any idea what danger could we be facing right now?" he says.

"It was just my parents Doctor. I don't think they'd even recognize me." I point out.

"Your father won't. But how do you think your mother will?"

"She won't probably remember,"

"Have you looked at the mirror lately?" he asks.

I know what he means. No one can pass the whole "I look like my father" comment except me. I flash back to how they both looked at me; like I'm someone they seem to know but can't quite put a finger to it.

"I have and I can tell you that they probably won't put much thought on the possibility that their only son was traveling with a mad man in a box." I say.

"This isn't some sort of time period we can pop in. We should have never pop in here in the first place. This is war." He says.

"Why do you keep on saying that?" I ask.

"Keep on saying what?" he asks back.

"You emphasize the war too much. Like you've been in one before." I comment. It's true, he doesn't talking about leaving this place. He talks in circles yet the circle's center point is the word "war" itself. Like he doesn't want to be a part of it. Like he doesn't want to be in it. Like he's trying to avoid it.

He avoids my eyes. His expression shifting to a mix of sadness and slight anger.

"Ronan, the first thing you should know about a war is that chooses no side. It only aims to prove a point." He says, sadly.

"And the point is?"

"That no one ever wins." He answers. I could hear the slight tone of regret in his voice. He's definitely in one before. No doubt about it. Maybe he's remembering something personal. I don't know exactly who he is, only that he's mad enough to make me take on his dare.

"Then why start a war if no one ever wins? Why start a war when it only costs lives not meant to be taken?" I ask.

"Because no one would realize the point without both sides losing something." He says. I catch his eyes this time and I see it, the sadness lingering in it. A hint of regret. Does he hate himself? What kind of war did he participate in?

"Is that why you don't want us to stick around? Because you're afraid to witness both sides losing?" I point.

He shifts uncomfortably as if I've asked him a very personal question.

"This is a vital moment in the history of Panem. One flaw, one sentence changed, and it could affect everything. We can't stay," he says, repeating his previous words.

I sigh. There's no point trying to get him t open up yet. He only avoids the question and brings back the reason to our current situation.

"Where are we going?" I ask, remembering that we're still escaping.

"I've directed the elevator to bring us to the floor where the TARDIS is located," he says.

"And that floor is?"

"The Command Room," he answers.

The Command Room? How does he even know that it's in the command room? It's a trap probably.

"I'm picking up its signal and it's directing us to the Command Room," he says.

"How sure are you that it won't be a trap to lure us into?" I ask.

He looks at me, amused all of a sudden. "One of these days Odair, you'll learn to trust me,"

"Yeah, let me know if I'm still alive when that happens," I counter. I give him a smile and he smiles back but the sadness in his eyes lingers.

"Right then," he says, "Buckle up!"

He points his screwdriver at the elevator buttons and the movement shifts downward, faster than before. The gravity pulls both of us with it, as I hold on tightly to the sides. I look at the Doctor who's also holding on. He looks terrified too, but when I catch his eyes, he laughs at me.

It only takes me to look down and see that my hospital gown is resisting the forces of gravity and that it won't stay down. I can feel the embarrassment rushing on my face so I squint my eyes at him and tell him to shut up.

He laughs at that right until we reach the floor where the signal from the TARDIS is coming from.

"You really need to get pants," he says.

"I lost mine when I woke up after being electrocuted while trying to leave like you planned before," I remind him.

"Right. Don't worry. I'm pretty sure the TARDIS will be right in front of us when we open this door," he says.

He presses the button, enough for me to see that it was a bad idea. I only have enough time to yell, "Doctor NO!" before they force it open and point their guns at us.

A man with gray cropped hair and blue eyes looks at us narrowly. He's looking at me like he's seen me before, and averts his eyes to the Doctor who's as surprised as I am.

"Right then," the man says. "I think it's about time we settle this once and for all,"

I glance at the Doctor's face and think of how much of an explanation this will be. Definitely a huge explanation that I'm afraid won't be believable.

One glance at their hostile faces, the guns pointed at us that I think, maybe things would have been easier if we didn't escape in the first place. What did they say about regretting doing stupid things in the end?

Right. They always regret doing it in the end.

Because I certainly am.


End file.
